Continuum
by UnknownRegion
Summary: Naruto being Naruto, drew up a wonky time-travel seal and sent Obito into a completely different dimension where people actually have soulmates. Wtf. Furthermore, although Obito should have been an anomaly, why was Senju Tobirama's name inked(?) just below his left collarbone! [Soulmate AU, Time Travel, Dimensional Travel]
1. Chapter 1

Directly after he stepped out of Kamui, Obito's pair of knees buckled under the strain of his weight and he settled heavily upon the grassy ground with uncontrollable trembles. His head felt extremely wrecked and it was exceptionally difficult for him to concentrate on _anything_, but, still, he tries his hardest to be aware of his body's condition.

First and foremost, the lack of chakra in his system was telling. But it didn't come as a huge surprise since it did take a huge amount of chakra to travel back in time. Frankly, Obito was considered lucky to have actually managed to survive this trip _intact_.

The results of time travel, as Naruto had stated with a cheerful grin on his bloodstained lips, was unpredictable as it was unknown. The results may vary, with missing limbs thrown into the equation. But, _theoretically_, it could either end up with the death of the traveler or said traveler at death's door.

Fortunately, Obito was the latter to Naruto's prediction, though he might not have minded the former if he were completely honest.

Frankly, it was only due to Team 7's one-sided votes that Obito was selected to be the candidate for this 'fix-it', insane time travel plan of theirs (_which, to put it simply, consists of saving his past-self from being groomed into old man Madara's puppet, become friends with said insane Uchiha, and getting rid of Zetsu and that demonic statue. Oh, and can't forget to keep Naruto's and Sasuke's families intact. Sounds easy. Not_).

If Obito had a voice to vote, his first choice would have been Naruto, even without the fox and one foot already hovering above his grave. Or his bat-shit crazy cousin Sasuke. Hell, even that monstrous pink-headed healer who has the mentality of punch first apologize later would've been the better option.

Obito should have been the last candidate for their insane 'fix-the-past' plan if they wanted it to, you know, _actually succeed_, as his desire to live was as scorching as Kakashi's (_and everyone knows that that bastard was suicidal at best_) and his solution to fixing anything was basically to either reject reality or burn the whole world down.

Unfortunately, he was the only one alive with Kamui, and a transplant would take the receiver at least a week to recover enough for usage. Furthermore, depending on their talent, it would take months or even years to fully master his eye's unique abilities. And time was exactly what they lacked.

On the topic of eyes... He felt the implanted eye inside his left socket throb at the reminder of its true owner's death.

After they had escaped Kaguya's latest ambush, Naruto hurriedly drew a very complex seal inside of Obito's Kamui and connected it to all of their chakra reservoirs. He also (_viciously_) left it to Obito to drain them dry.

If he was a true Konoha shinobi, he would have wavered. But Obito was a twisted and broken man and he didn't hesitate to activate the array. The seal (_Obito_) killed Team 7 and the remaining bijuus within _seconds_.

Obito sighed morosely as he compartmentalized, just like how old man Madara had taught him to do so. It was futile to think about it further, as nothing would change even if he did.

Closing his eyes, he held back the typical Uchiha unhinged laugh that wanted to escape his bloodstained lips and mentally scanned his physical condition as a form of distraction.

Judging by the blood dribbling down his chin and blood clots floating inside his mouth, he definitely has a few internal bleeds and broken ribs during his short skirmish against Kaguya. As for the hole in his gut and left collarbone... Obito had a feeling that he would need to staunch them before he actually bleeds to death.

However, his limbs were being _frustratingly_ uncooperative at the moment. And the lack of chakra meant that the Hashirama cells inside his prosthetics could not actively bring forth a miraculous recovery.

What a dilemma, Obito lamented in his head.

* * *

**A/N:**

_Le gasp_ ∑(ΦдΦlll. Why am I writing_ yet another_ Naruto fanfic?! This is ridiculous! (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻

Anyway... This story, _again_, was supposed to be a one-shot. But, _once again_, it was too lengthy. So I decided to break it into chapters. _Again_ (－‸ლ)...

Well, thank you for reading. Please, tell me your thoughts (*・∀-)


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of rustling leaves and disorganized footsteps caused Obito to let loose yet another sigh, this one gloomier than the previous ones.

It seems that he would have to depend on Lady Luck to survive a life and death situation y_et again _(_actually, he figured that dying of blood loss wouldn't be _that _bad. It would be just like sleeping. Maybe. Better than being buried alive under boulders, anyway_).

In the past, it had been old man Madara who had _'_s_aved' _thirteen years old him. Now, Obito wasn't at all optimistic that these people were actually kind and friendly Konoha folks, and not insane mass murderers with the grandeur of world peace thru war.

The bad karma he had accumulated for the past two decades was probably enough to kill the average person a hundred times over.

Furthermore, Konoha shinobi have cat-like footwork when traversing through forests, constantly avoiding dry twigs and crunchy leaves on instinct alone. If he added such messy and heavy footwork into the equation, the percentage of them bein_g civilians _was especially high.

At the numerous gasps he heard, Obito mustered up the strength to crack open his right eyelid, knowing that a surgical eyepatch was covering his left. His vision was blurry at best, but he could still make out a few tensed silhouettes, all armed with spears and curved swords in their hands.

_Oh, _w_ait_. Obito squinted to bring more focus into his vision.

Those men were carrying _pitchforks_ and agriculture _scythes_, which, of course, _could _potentially be used as weapons, and Obito laments that if they did try to skewer him, he hopes that they aim for his heart so that he suffers less. But, anyway, these people were probably civilian farmers, judging by their tools and lack of training.

Obito tried to look friendly by smiling, but all that did was cause more blood to escape from his cracked lips. One of the civilians even looked disgusted at his battered form – which was extremely rude, in Obito's opinion.

Though he could _some_w_ha__t _see the group of men speaking _(arguing_), it felt as if pieces of cotton had been stuffed into his ears, causing him to hear muted murmurs and a painful white noise. Knowing that even verbalizing his lack of hearing would be a challenge with how lethargic he was feeling, Obito didn't bother, only choosing to close his lone eye and disinterestedly left his fate in the palms of their hands.

Or in other words, he blacked out.

When he came to, he was disorientated and out of his element - wondering why it felt as if the juubi had just thrown a massive tantrum inside his noggin.

The only time he remembers having been this _exhausted_, both mentally and physically to the point of death, was when he woke up and saw old man Madara looming _lovingly o_ver him like a demented Shinigami, ready to tear his soul into tiny, Obito-sized pieces.

Honestly, after all Obito had been through these past two decades, his pain threshold _should _be within the realms of the gods. But, alas, he has never experienced chakra exhaustion before and he wondered how Kakashi dealt with this on a week-to-week basis. The urge to succumb into an eternal rest was tempting on so many levels.

After inwardly bemoaning his misery and lack of good karma, it didn't take long for him to ignore his body's physical pain, re-organize his mind, and recall Team 7's unfair nomination for Obito to _fix_ the past and bring forth a bright future _(to make up for hi__s mi__stakes, a bitter part of him whispered). _

Obito couldn't help it, he immediately began to swear his grievances at Team 7. They were very much going to regret this when they see his future(?) failures from the Pure Lands. Obito would make sure they bemoan their decision to choose him even after their deaths.

Snorting to himself at the crazy thoughts in his head, Obito, with much difficulty, lifted the heavy lid of his right eye, knowing that this was not the appropriate time to be cussing at those that have already departed _(his friends at tha__t__, __not __tha__t __he _w_ould willingly admit tha__t at __any point in time outside his h__ea__d. But, still). _

The ceiling was pitiful and had holes in them, was the first thought that popped into his mind. The next thing he registers was the layout of the room - small, dark, and smelt _heavily _of mould... though in comparison to the smell of ash, burnt flesh, and human waste during the war against Kaguya; it wasn't _that_ bad.

All in all, it was pretty decent to someone who had once upon a time woken up inside an underground cavern that had little to no air circulation and smelt heavily of old man and rot. With a silent sigh, he dived into himself to check his chakra levels.

Again, he was not at all surprised to feel that he was still borderline empty.

At this rate, it would take him a while before he could use Kamui for Team 7's insane plans _(Obito made sure to silently add 'kill younge__r__-self' into the to-do list, which would no dou__bt ang__er Naruto to the point of throwing __a Rasenshuriken at his fac__e__... if the blonde had st__ill __been alive, that was)_. Perhaps food might help him with his chakra recovery rate and declining mental health.

With that in mind, Obito carefully pushes himself into a seating position. By the time he manages to do something as simple as sitting up, he was profusely sweating as if he had just been through one of old man Madara's training sessions, feeling twice as light headed and nauseated than he has ever felt before.

Chakra exhaustion was something he _never _wanted to experience ever again, he lamented with an air of heavy misery.

"Yer awake."

It was only thanks to his years of shinobi training that Obito did not show any outward signs of surprise. It had been a _long _time since someone had managed to sneak up on him - a civilian at that. Obito silently promises to take this to his grave. He truly hates not being able to shape his chakra and use it for sensing_. _

Turning to face the speaker, the first thing Obito did was to discreetly survey the man for any hidden weapons. He manages to find a dagger tucked messily into the man's left pocket, but other than that, there was nothing else. Then he scrutinizes the man from head to toe.

Middle-aged. Tanned and sunburnt skin. Dirt underneath fingernails. Calloused hands, patterned for agriculture tools more than weapons. Muscles built for heavy lifting. Malodorous. Unshaven and disheveled. Threadbare, outdated clothes. No wedding band, but the flower stitches on his clothes were childish and unskilled, indicating that the man has a daughter or a niece.

All those clues painted a brief story of a man living in a remote settlement which lacks foreign merchants to trade with, working as a civilian farmer, and has a poor quality of life.

Anyway, the man's life story held no importance to Obito. What was important was that he was probably far from any Hidden Villages right now. Which meant that although the bleeding has stopped, his wounds would need professional handling ASAP, lest they be infected.

Shinobi inflicted wounds were something civilians were unused to, after all. Unless they were doctors. And this man was clearly no doctor. Resources such as anti-biotics and practices such as sterile wound dressings would be minimal from what he has seen thus far.

Fortunately, Sakura had planned ahead and instructed for Naruto to ink a storage seal onto Obito's left bicep - a small, little, square-shaped tattoo that Obito didn't actually mind despite his initial protests about Kamui being a larger storage space on its own.

However, Sasuke, that damn brat, went behind Obito's back and made a snide comment about Naruto's lack of creativity. The blonde knucklehead took that as a challenge and, without Obito's knowledge, camouflaged the seal inside a gigantic orange fox with nine tails, which covered his entire arm from shoulder to wrist.

It became more like an arm sleeve tattoo for aesthetic purposes, much to his disgruntlement.

_(Though within the safety of his mind, Obito admits that he had, in fact, figured out their little prank, not fooled at all by their bad acting but pretended that he had been. This was all due__ to their smiles __\- such a fragile and rare expression for anyone to wear a__f__ter five, long years of war._

_Obito was truly growing soft in his old age_._)_

At the sensation of melancholy creeping into his system, Obito quickly compartmentalizes and re-focuses on the man who he assumes had, unfortunately enough, saved his life.

"I am," Obito cleared his throat after hearing how croaky he sounded, before he continues, "Are you the one who treated my wounds? You have my thanks."

As poorly as they have been wrapped, the lack of bleeding did prevent him from dying... And despite being a mass murderer and a reformed villain, Obito had, once upon a time, been taught manners by his grandmother and Rin - though utilizing it was another story altogether.

"Keh! If ya wanna show yer thanks, leave as soon as ya can stand. _Yer kind's _not welcome here. If not fer me chief's warning tha' there'll be moar of yer kind runnin' aroun' 'ere if we let ya die, we would 'ave left ya fer dead!" The man spat, a frustrated frown creasing across his face.

_Charming, _Obito inwardly deadpanned. Outwardly, he remained stoic and nodded to show his understanding

Still, it wasn't his fault for being born an Uchiha (_he blames old man Madara for t__h__at, t__h__anks great-great __grandpa_). Although how the man had guessed his origins from his white hair and scarred features was quite an amazing feat in itself.

"I'll be out of your hair soon," Obito rasped.

"Tch, damn ninjas. If ya wanted ta die, do it somewhe' else! Don' brin' trouble ta our home! 'Specially that clan name- _tch..._"

Obito raises a confused brow when the man started to mutter about _souls_ and _names_ and _marks_ and whatnot. Obito threw a pitying glance at the man - so young but already insane - and decided to focus on more important matters. Like how the farmer meant 'ninja' when he said 'your kind'.

Good to know that he wasn't identifiable with the Uchiha at first glance. It gives his background a lot of room to play with.

The civilian gave one last glare at Obito before stomping out of the room, not forgetting to slam the door whilst at it. If Obito had still been _Tobi_, he wouldn't have hesitated to gut the man for speaking and acting in such a brazen manner.

Luckily for the farmer, Obito had already turned over a new leaf (s_omewhat_) thanks to Naruto.

With a massive eyeroll, Obito reached for his storage seal with trembling fingers. A large first aid box popped into existence and landed heavily onto the hard bed, causing it to groan at the added weight.

Obito mentally thanked Sakura for stocking up such a rich amount of supplies and began re-stitching and re-dressing his wounds, this time adding anti-biotic ointments and popping a few anti-inflammatory tablets whilst at it.

It took him about an hour, honestly, to get his fingers to work correctly enough to not fuck up on the stitches, but after the wounds were wrapped tightly, he pulled out a clean purple mantle from the storage seal and shrugged it on, not caring for his torn shinobi pants just yet.

After he ate a ration bar and drank a bottle of water, he left immediately as per _requested_ from his saviors.

Obito walked out of the run-down shed with more difficulty than he had anticipated and strode into the surrounding forest with a strength he did not feel, shrugging off the ugly glares and fearful looks he received from the locals.

It was only when he was half an hour away from the remote settlement did he allow himself to slump onto the nearest tree and present his weakness to the world.

_Fuck_, Obito miserably wishes that the Hashirama cells inside his body would just activate already. He hated this debilitating feeling.

* * *

**A/N:**

Welp. Good to know that Kaguya had managed to wipe out everyone apart from Team 7, some bijuus, and Obito (*＾∀゜). Man, I couldn't imagine being on the run for 5 years. No wonder everyone (_not counting the grumpy Obito_) wishes to fix the past.

I'm super happy to receive such positive feedback from the previous chapter! Thank you (´∀｀) ! Now I'm confident to continue this story~

**P.S**. I'll still work on my other fics, so don't worry ( • ̀ω•́ )✧!


	3. Chapter 3

After resting for half a day, Obito wandered towards the general direction of Konoha (_as a person who mainly travels via 'teleportation', it was a requirement of his to have spatial and geographical awareness_), knowing that to start 'fixing' things, he was first required to actually _be ther_e in person.

Although it would be less cumbersome for Obito to infiltrate Konoha's ranks by showing his eyes and claiming to be a bastard Uchiha born out of the wedlock, he has no desire whatsoever to join Konoha's ranks. Hence, he would recover his strength and - with the help of Kamui - remain in the shadows to set things straight.

The first on his to-do list was, obviously, his younger self.

It would be better to rid the world of that particular nuisance _just in case_ he failed spectacularly down the road... Since Naruto's plans mainly consist of a lot of 'Talk-no-jutsu'. And Obito was _not_ the naive boy that he used to be - he has long grown into a cynical man.

... Sasuke and old man Madara would be proud of his neurotically stubborn mindset when it came to selfishness - truly worthy of an Uchiha who had been driven into madness. Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, and Rin, however, would be devastated.

Obito simply wishes that his mind would _just stop _tormenting him with all of those presumptions and let him do whatever the fuck he wanted without auditory hallucinations of being judged by those he cared about adding to his already long list of mental disorders.

The dead have no ability to speak to the living... unless, of course, they were unfortunate enough to be reanimated by a psychopath using the Edo-tensei; which would then make them an annoyance that Obito would avoid with a ferocious passion.

_Anyway_, Obito was _so don_e with everything. He didn't need his mind telling him he was a lunatic - he already knows, thank you very much.

When he shook his head to rid himself of those inane musings, Obito was suddenly hyper-aware of the sound of water splashes. He was quick to change directions, knowing that it would be best to hydrate himself without diminishing his very limited supplies, as it would be better to leave them in the case of emergencies.

When he saw the source - _a lake_ \- his vision tunneled and he dragged his exhausted body to the edge of the waters, stumbling here and there before he fell to his knees, his arms and legs trembling from the strain.

He was tempted, _oh so very tempted, _to strip and dive into the water to be clean from the dirt and grime and dried blood caked all over his face and body. Alas, he knew better than to introduce unboiled water to open wounds and his newly implanted left eye. He did not need an infection on top of being deprived of chakra.

Just as he reaches to bunch up his left sleeve and retrieve a cooking pot from his storage seal, he heard the soft sound of breathing coming from his right. It would've been inaudible to civilians, but with his shinobi-trained senses, it wa_s just _enough for him to realize that he was not entirely alone.

It seems that his awareness has dropped in his weakened state. Or, rather, he should've checked the area before he relaxed his guard.

Obito's body complained at the abuse when he forces himself to his feet, stumbling only once, before righting himself to face the unknown person with a kunai in hand, on guard and ready to defend himself. Unfortunately for Obito, his Sharingan flared completely on instinct, much to his horror, too used to Obito leaving them activated even in his sleep.

Immediately, the strain on his severely depleted chakra reserves causes him to break out in cold sweat and topple to one side. Obito even sw_o_re that he blacked out for a second there; because one moment he was standing, the next, he was in the unknown person's arms.

And that caused him to completely freeze up.

The last person to _hold_ Obito in his arms was old man Madara... just before the bastard took his own life in order to push Obito into a solitude, driven insanity after only having _one_ _person_ to depend on for his mental health after Rin's death.

Subconsciously, being held was _a painful _experience to Obito. So, without further ado, he lost his shit.

He growled deliriously, not understanding the words coming out from his mouth, yet unable to stop them from escaping his lips. He flailed and struggled to get away from the w_arm-prickly-familial _chakra signature that was engulfing him, kunai having already been flung to who knows where.

He heard muted murmurs, their tone soft and calm, but he was too out of it to hear the actual words being spoken. The stress of being on the run, of the seemingly never-ending war, of time travel in general, of Team 7's death by his hands, of his lack of chakra, of his fears to disappoint his dead friends and comrades... Everything made it so that Obito felt as if he could not get enough oxygen into his system, his heart constricting painfully, and his trembling refuses to recede.

Obito, logically, knew that these were all symptoms of a panic attack, hence he struggles to compartmentalize. Old man Madara has taught him how to overcome this - he couldn't afford to allow such a weakness to be seen by others when he was masquerading as Uchiha Madara.

Just because he likened _touch _t_o pain, _it did not mean that the unknown person's intention was to harm him.

If this unknown stranger wanted to hurt him, whether it be physically or mentally or emotionally, Obito was someone who could endure the pain of a Chidori through his chest without issues _(and if t__h__e pain ever g__ot __too much, he could always end __everything by suicide_)_. So he was fine, damn it! Stop fucking trembling like a genin, Uchiha Obito! _

He didn't know for how long he talked himself out of an anxiety attack, but when he became aware of his physical body, he realizes that he was being rocked and soothed, slender yet calloused fingers raking through his hair in a calming manner.

It reminded him sorely of Rin, cuddled against him whenever a younger Obito bawled his eyes out for one reason or the other. The memory was painful as it was warm, and it allowed for him to finally return to his senses, his breathing leveled out as his tremors slowly recede.

"...-fe... You... -right... I've... -ot you... You're safe now. You're alright... Are you with me now? Can you hear me? Hey, I've got you. Don't worry, there's nobody else here. You're safe with me."

Words of reassurance were spoken by the unknown person, soon understandable to Obito. It made him want to _retch _due to how _sickening_ they were.

Normally, he would've bared his teeth and stab whoever it was that dared to hug him, uncomfortable with these kinds of situations and the intimacy they bring. But with how exhausted he was right now, he could do nothing but remain in this mortifying position.

(_No, he did not_ _grasp at this stranger's shirt for comfort purposes. Kill those thoughts immediately, peasants! He was simply making sure that he gets a good grip so that he would be able to flip their positions if there was a need to do so._)

... In spite of the fact that he just wanted to bury himself into a whole due to humiliation, his shinobi instincts continue to force him to get a good 'feel' about this unknown hugger of his. So he struggles to keep his right eye open as he squints at the unknown stranger.

What greeted him was a facial structure that was painfully nostalgic, pulling at his dust-covered heartstrings. Those aristocratic features were something he had not seen on someone that was _not _Sasuke, Itachi, Madara, or himself.

Obito had, after all, committed mass genocide and rid the world of the Uchiha clan in the future.

This unknown Uchiha looked to be in his early twenties. The man has fair skin, dark eyes, and equally dark hair, which was pulled into a high ponytail with bangs framing his face. He wore a high-collared purple mantle, similar to Obito's but in a lighter shade, with the only difference being a golden chain draped on his right shoulder. He was also carrying a sword strapped on his back, but Obito's vision was starting to blur, so he clenches his eye shut and focuses on breathing.

Obito figured that the unintentional usage of his Sharingan had dried what little chakra he had recovered, causing him to feel ill in the stomach and beyond groggy. All he wanted to do was to enter an eternal sleep and never wake up ever again. For the first time after his body modifications, he felt an unfamiliar tug at his stomach - as if there was an uncomfortable urge to vomit his guts out.

And he did just that.

Fortunately, the other Uchiha reacted swiftly by turning Obito to face the other side.

As soon as he was done being a _disgusting _and _miserable _mess, he felt someone clean his face whilst urging him to rinse his mouth with the water provided.

He mentally thanked this person for being _different _from the usual Uchiha assholes he knew back in his own timeline. If it had been Sasuke, his insane cousin would've cheered for him to puke _more _all over himself, enjoying Obito's suffering like the sadist he was. On the other hand, old man Madara would've scoffed and maybe even rubbed Obito's face against his own sick. He didn't know which one was the worst; to have his front covered in vomit or thoroughly on his face. So, really, this Uchiha's kindness was wholly appreciated!

Without resistance, Obito allows himself to be manhandled into a more comfortable position.

He was soon placed in between the younger Uchiha's legs with his back pressed onto the man's chest. There were arms wrapped around his middle to hold him up, and Obito rested his head on the stranger's shoulder, not even needing to force himself to sleep thanks to the fatigue.

_(Deep, deep inside, Obito actually felt it was nice to have another clansman, a complete stranger that was connected to him only by blood, have his back. Literally and figuratively. It was a new experience, but it didn't feel bad.)_

Obito swore that as soon as he recovers just enough chakra for him to access Kamui, he would swirl into his pocket dimension and _stay there_ until he has fully recuperated. Never, ever, would he allow anyone else to see his shortcoming ever again.

This time, it was only due to carelessness. But there won't be a next time. He would make sure of it.

* * *

**A/N:**

Kyaa~ (*´∀`*). All of your positive responses to the previous chapter made me beam! Thank you!

This chapter's narrative was a little wonky due to Obito being all over the place with his 'sickness', but I still do hope that you've enjoyed reading about his miserable time with chakra exhaustion (_and denying his feelings, hahaha!_).

See you next chapter (￣▽￣)ゞ!


	4. Chapter 4

Whilst Obito was blissfully sleeping in the arms of a rather protective Uchiha, Senju Tobirama was hunched over his desk, eyes aching and head pounding as he signed document after document, read reports after reports, and wrote missive after missive. He was also trying his hardest to _block out_ his brother's insufferable _whining_ with little results.

Woefully, Tobirama thought back to three days ago.

After father's return from a skirmish against the Kaguya clan, he has been bedbound and unconscious thus far, having been inflicted with a debilitating injury that even Hashirama was unable to fully heal. With the absence of their clan head, Tobirama was the unlucky brother to have been selected to do their clan's important paperwork in lieu of their father.

Hashirama, who was the clan's heir and second-in-command, should have been the one to have their father's paperwork shoved onto him. However, that lucky dog had been spared of this miserable fate as he was tasked to welcome the Uzumaki delegation and work to extend their alliance contract with those redheads (_although Hashirama had, unfortunately enough, tricked Tobirama into doing _all of _the prep work for him, further depriving him of free time. It angers him whenever he recalls that incident_).

He resisted the urge to bite his brother's finger when Hashirama began poking at his tattooed cheeks, attempting to get _some kind_ of response out of him.

Tobirama tries his best to remain unresponsive to the goading (_because this was _clearly _intentional_), knowing that the more he entertains his brother by reacting, the more Hashirama would continue to disturb him. He simply needed to wait until his brother was bored enough to leave.

In spite of knowing that, Tobirama still has a _limit_ for tolerating his brother's tomfoolery, however. And now... Now wasn't a good time. He was currently _sleep deprived,_ agitated due to the lack of exercise, and was burdened with the workload of_ three people_.

And he swears that if Hashirama throws _yet anothe__r fucking __tantrum on his floor he would shave off all of Hashirama's hair and-_

Tobirama took a deep breath in, held it for three seconds, then exhaled.

The younger Senju repeated this breathing technique a few more times, wanting to remain calm in the face of adversaries. It would do him no good to be goaded into yet another one of his brother's schemes. He would _cooly and politely_ decline his brother's offer and return to his work.

Turning stiffly to his brother, ready to do as he plans, he was greeted by a pair of gleeful brown eyes. All of his calm vanished at the sight of Hashirama's '_cat that got the cream_' expression.

"I'm throwing your sake stash, anija."

Hashirama immediately began squawking in protest, plastering himself to Tobirama's back and began _wailing a_bout how the younger Senju was being _'me__an' _and '_crueľ _and '_where did my cute little Tob__i __go_?' along with '_remember the time_ _you used to toddle behind me like a duckling and-'_

Tobirama loves his brother. He truly does. But _Sage _did he truly want to stitch Hashirama's lips together. _Permanently_. Or, at least, until he learns to never _reminisce_ about all of Tobirama's childhood misadventures _ever again_.

"Anija. Stop." Tobirama removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. He made sure to discreetly cover his face so that his manipulative asshole of a brother could not see the physical proof of how full of blood his cheeks were.

"As soon as my dear otouto agrees to go swimming with me." Hashirama singsonged, a triumphed smile already etched onto his face.

Truthfully, Tobirama _could've_ refused.

Hashirama may love to tease him until he was red in the face and ready to burst into flames, but his older brother would never do something that could potentially hurt him (be it reputation, health, or emotionally). Hence, he could give a straight 'no' and Hashirama would leave him to his work.

_However_.

Tobirama also knows that Hashirama only begins to truly annoy him when he was overworking himself.

He closed his eyes in acceptance, knowing that he would end up agreeing with the older Senju anyway. Ah, he was always weak-willed when it came to his brother as he did not want Hashirama to worry about him. Thus, with an exasperated sigh, he reluctantly nodded his assent.

Hashirama did not delay any longer. He immediately began dragging Tobirama to their backyard, where their large-sized empty pond was located at, babbling gleefully about how happy he was that he would have time to spend with his 'cute little brother'. Tobirama pouted. He was not cute.

Their father had built the pond for the sole purpose of chakra training and water jutsu practices. But since they were kids, Hashirama, the ever rebellious young lad, liked using it as a swimming pool despite their father's many reprimands.

As soon as they reached the circumference of the pond, Hashirama was out of his casual yukata and into the waters without a care for Tobirama's _innocent _eyes. He resisted the urge to facepalm - how many times has he had to remind the fool to wear his fundoshi underneath his clothes?!

"Hurry up, Tobi! The water's great!" Hashirama grinned, idly pushing his long, drenched hair away from his face and chest.

Although he should already be used to such a sight, Tobirama still has the decency to avert his gaze from his brother's heavily muscled torso, unease at seeing his brother's violet soul script.

Marked at the very center of Hashirama's chiseled abs was a name; _Uzumaki Mito, _written in elegant penmanship that proved her clan's prowess as seal masters. There were not many who would be so bold as to bear their soul script to the world, but Hashirama has always been a unique case.

Tobirama, after a few more prompts from Hashirama, finally shrugged off his own clothing.

As many would know, Tobirama was a v_e_ry private man. Hence stripping in a public setting should have been completely out of character for him. However, he cares not about swimming without clothes as, to begin with, he didn't have any soul script to expose.

He, too, was a unique case.

But unlike his brother, Tobirama's lay in his _lack _of a soulmate.

When a person was born, they would either, one; already have a name marked somewhere on their skin, usually due to their destined partner being born in the same clan or country, or two; have no script until their soulmate was within a 100 miles from the other.

As soon as the pair made skin contact, the white scripts on their skin would change color to match their partner's eyes.

(_As fo__r __those whose soulmates have died, their nam_es _would automatically be faded and crossed out. Something fa__r __too common in this time period.) _

At first, his family assumes that Tobirama's soulmate had not been born just yet or that they were living in another country. But after twenty years, having been on missions all over the countries without results, Tobirama knew that he was destined to live a life all on his own. Perhaps it was fitting for someone as lacking as him to be matchless.

Just as he tentatively touches the water with his toes, Hashirama abruptly leaped out of the pond and grabbed him by his biceps.

It startled him bad enough for him to _flinc__h__. _It wasn't the touch that surprised him - as his brother was a very touchy person - no, it was the intense look in those brown eyes of his, burning holes into Tobirama's chest.

"Anija?" He was already using his chakra to search for potential threats, his pair of red eyes moving to scan their surroundings warily.

"Uchiha-" Tobirama was instantly on guard, "Obi...?_ Oh my Sage_._" _Hashirama's voice was full of astonishment, awe, and hope.

"What?" Tobirama looked at Hashirama as if the latter was crazy, "I don't sense any Uchiha chakra nearby, anija."

Hashirama seemed to have not heard him, too busy with gawking at his chest. It made the younger Senju feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. Compared to his brother, he always finds himself lacking in the looks department (_no other Senju has his coloring. He was the odd one out_).

With a scowl, he folded his arms, blocking his chest from view. His actions brought Hashirama back to reality (_thankfully_), and brown eyes met red.

"Tobirama. I- _You_... I'm so happy for you, otouto!" Hashirama's smile was radiant enough to make Tobirama squint. He rudely wonders if this was the result of Hashirama's genjutsu training.

"What is it, anija? If this is another one of your weird pranks-"

"No," His brother finally released him and took a step back, but the smile remained, "Congratulations, brother! You have a soulmate."

Tobirama's whole body froze, his breath caught in his throat and his tongue was dry at his brother's exclamation. After a few moments of silence, his lips parted, his voice strangled and full of fury, "I did not expect this from _you_, anija."

Not wanting to remember the hateful memories of how he had been cruelly _played_ and mocked by the children of his clan back when he had been a child, Tobirama angrily picks up his clothing and roughly shrugs on his yukata. Just as he was tying his obi, Hashirama grabbed his wrists, forcing him to look up and glare at his older brother.

"Tobi... I would never. I can never hurt you. _Never you_. Please believe me when I say that I saw your soul script right here." Hashirama releases one of his wrists to poke just below his left collarbone.

He bit his bottom lip, the prospect of it made a warmth in his chest blossom, especially at the sincerity in his brother's tone. Hashirama didn't seem to be lying.

It has been years since he gave up on having a soulmate, thinking he was just one of those few unfortunate ones who was fated to die alone. To be told that a soulmark has appeared on his skin... He was scared of falling into a false sense of security and be given false hope.

When he simply stood motionless, indecisive, Hashirama slowly takes hold of his hand and raises it so that his palm was flat against his chest. Tobirama almost shivered when he felt a warmth, so unlike his own, caress his palm.

His lips quivered.

Tobirama's body temperature has always been on the lower side of the scale.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he tugged the collar of his yukata and searched for the writing he has longed for his whole life. His eyes lit up at the sight of a messy script in white, but as soon as his brain processes the name, his expression turned into one of _pure horror_.

It wrote: Uchiha Obito.

His soulmate was an _Uchiha_.

Tobirama wanted to burn the script off his skin.

* * *

**A/N:**

You guys sure are enjoying Obito's misery. How sadistic Σ(ﾟДﾟ)!

Thank you all for your awesome comments (ღ˘⌣˘ღ). It brings me great joy to see that many of you enjoy reading my stories! I hope you've taken delight at Tobirama's reaction to finding out he has a soulmate, and then discover that his soulmate is an Uchiha ('∀'●). This is my first time writing a soulmate!AU, so I'm more than a little inexperienced in this. So if there's anything I can improve on, please do not hesitate to tell me, ok?!

Please tell me your thoughts ღゝ◡╹)ノ!

* * *

**Just an explanation for this soulmate AU:**

**Identifying mark:** A name will appear on any part of the person's body, looking much like a pale, old scar than a scripted tattoo.

**Upon death:** The alive mate will have their deceased mate's soul script crossed out.

**To confirm the identifying mark:** Skin contact is required. Upon confirmation, the soul script will turn into the color of their mate's eyes.

**An explanation for no identifying mark:** There are only 2 reasons why no identifying mark could be found on a person's body. **1)** Their mate has yet to be born. **2)** Their mate is too far for their souls to recognize the other; a case being two mates born in a different country and remained there for the rest of their lives. Only when they are in the same country will a soul script appear.

**How are babies born:** Gender doesn't matter in a soulmate AU. Everyone and anyone can become pregnant! However, this only applies to confirmed mates. If a person tries to impregnate someone that is not their soulmate, they wouldn't succeed at all. Hence the reason why everyone does their best to search for their other half! This means that women can impregnate both men and women, and men can give birth! How utterly fascinating.

**Connections between mates:** **1)** They may feel either a burning hotness or a deep chill whenever their partner is in a weakened state. This, however, applies only when the person directly or indirectly tries to call their other half for help. This particular connection won't appear if the one who needs help refuses to call for it, be it verbally or non verbally. **2)** As soon as the soul script is confirmed and changed color, both parties will be able to sense the location of the other no matter the distance between them. **3)** Upon mutual confirmation between mates, infidelity will lead to divine punishment in the form of excruciating groin pain! Even _Hidan_ will scream like a big baby if divine punishment hits him, so for the average person, death would be a better fate!

**How to identify a legit soul script:** Every soul script is warm to touch and will beat in rhythm to the identified person's heartbeat. Only a crossed-out soul script won't.


	5. Chapter 5

Obito would rather answer Guruguru's awkward questions than be in this situation right now. Well, not really. But he was dead serious when he said he didn't want to be carried like a _helpless_ _civilian damsel_ any longer. It has been a whole day, for fuck's sake!

"Put me down already!" He hisses, lips pulled into a snarl as (humiliation) _anger_ continues to color his cheeks red.

"Now now, let's be reasonable here, hm? You're in no condition to walk on your own. Let me help - at least until your fever has cooled."

Despite how gentle the stranger's tone and actions were, Obito was tempted to just propel forward and tear out the guy's throat with _only_ his _teeth_. It was too bad his body was being disgustingly uncooperative right now. Obito sneers.

"I don't need your help! Or anybody's! Leave me the fuck alone!"

As soon as he said his piece, Obito once again tries to wiggle free. That only resulted in a sigh, before without warning, he was released.

He yelps the second his back abruptly hits the grassy ground, swear words leaving his lips as his vision wavers. If the landing had resulted in his stitches tearing open, he would have been frothing at the mouth due to the _burning_ fury that has been gradually accumulating since his arrival in this _time_.

When his eyesight _finally_ stabilizes after a couple of minutes, Obito notices that the younger Uchiha was busy with setting up camp. He turns away, deciding to ignore the bloke in order to survey their surroundings. The area the other shinobi chose was hidden perfectly between a set of humongous trees and a cliff's edge, good enough for a night, Obito reluctantly agrees. Nothing was better than Kamui, of course, but as old man Madara tends to say; '_beggars can't be choosers_'.

"We'll rest here tonight. It's not safe to travel after dark," the younger Uchiha states.

Obito's kept his lips pressed into a thin line, doing his best to give the guy the silent treatment. If threatening and yelling didn't procure any result, maybe the silent treatment would hint that Obito wanted the guy to drop dead.

Time passes by oddly to him, what with the fever-induced migraine and bone deep exhaustion he feels. Obito couldn't even remember what he was doing a second ago - _had he been eating or dozing?_ \- as if one moment he was watching the sun set, and the next everything was pitch black.

He only recalls having human company with him when the other Uchiha's hand was on his shoulder, manuevering him about. Before Obito realizes it, his back was already pressed into a strong chest and arms were secured around his hips. His snarl sounded weak even to his own ears. _Powerless_. Pathetic.

"I don't remember giving you permission to fucking touch me!"

What right did the bastard have to manhandle him like a sack of potatoes, anyway?! Just because they both hailed from the same clan didn't mean Obito would allow this bastard to touch him - or sage forbids; _help him_. He didn't need help! He only needed time to recover and he would be on his merry way. He wasn't weak, _damn it_!

"You have a fever. And you're shivering."

If Obito wasn't dead tired, he would have rolled his eyes skyward when the man deemed it necessary to verbally remind him of his physical condition. And as if _that_ was a reasonable explanation to start, ugh, _cuddling _him.

"Leave me alone," Obito mumbles sluggishly with his heavy eyelids. "Why are you doing this? I... I don't understand your motives. Your actions aren't benefiting you at all. Why can't you just leave me alone? I want to be... left alone... fucking... jerk..."

If the bloke had replied, Obito didn't hear it, as sleep has already claimed him.

* * *

Feverish dreams were the worst, Obito complaints sulkily to himself. Especially when it involves a certain second Hokage, Edo Tensei, and a giant tree.

For now, he tries his hardest to erase that nightmare from his mind as he repeatedly and crudely uses his hands to rip grass from the ground. After all, he couldn't do anything else whilst he waits for his powerless body to fight off a damn fever (_how pathetic_, a voice that sounded eerily like old man Madara echoes in his mind). Obito couldn't even remember the last time he was down with a fever!

Stupid chakra exhaustion. Stupid bodily needs. Stupid Naruto. Stupid team 7 and their stupid time travel plans, _ughhh_!

Glaring hatefully at his groin, he grits his teeth and jerkily turns to look over his shoulder. Onyx meets onyx as the two Uchiha men stared unblinkingly, one uncovered eye full of frosty hostility whilst the other pair was an ocean of calm.

"Release me," Obito demands.

There was a moment of tension as the younger Uchiha scrutinizes him, but before Obito could lose his temper (_again, for the nth time_), he was released.

Not caring that he needed to use the other man's shoulders for support, he pushes himself to stand on shaky legs and stumbles behind a few trees to empty his bladder on his lonesome.

Thankfully, he was allowed to do this much by himself. If the other Uchiha had insisted on 'helping' him to go to the toilet, Obito would have truly ripped his throat out - sickness be damned.

After he was done, he takes a few steps back and leans heavily against a tree. His forehead was covered in a layer of cold sweat as his vision swam, so he scrunches his eye shut and impatiently waits for the vertigo to pass.

As soon as he got his equilibrium back, he returns to the campsite, knowing from previous experience that if he tries to run away, the damn Uchiha would just track him down again. Fucking bastard. Just wait until Obito has full access to Kamui. Let's see how anybody could find him after that.

But, seriously, though.

Obito could never understand the mentality of his temporary companion. Why would a stranger go so far as to delay returning home in favor of taking care of a deadweight? It makes no sense. Sure, they were _technically_ from the same clan and Village, but they were still strangers.

If it had been _Obito_, he wouldn't have done such an annoying thing. Maybe the thirteen-year-old him might have been kind enough to do so, but the current Obito would find it a waste of time.

The strong rule and the weak struggle to even survive. And currently, as loathe as he was to admit it, Obito was the latter. Overall, he was strong, _of course_. But with his current condition (_chakra exhaustion, fever, and wounded_), he can't blame anyone but himself if he were to meet his maker. He was powerless to resist.

Dourly, Obito settles as far away as he could from the other Uchiha's sitting spot in the campsite and hides his face in his knees, all the while shivering from the cold.

He was so tired of everything, damn it.

And if the other Uchiha had moved to sit next to him, Obito _didn't_ reposition to seek warmth from the body beside him. _He didn't._

* * *

"Hikaku. My name is Hikaku."

Obito stares blankly at the man, clearly at a loss of how the topic suddenly derailed from Obito screaming abuses at... Hikaku... to the guy abruptly introducing himself.

"And you believe I give a damn because...?" He snaps back purely on instinct rather than anything else.

It has been a few days, after all, and Obito was already beginning to get strangely used to this Uchiha's kind mannerisms. It only made Obito want to run away faster.

"It'll be more convenient for you to put a name to my face, wouldn't it? And I believe that this is how strangers become friends," Hikaku beams.

"Yeah... _no_," Obito deadpanned. "I don't need friends."

"Alright," Hikaku hums soothingly, not at all phased by his comment. He was probably also too used to Obito's snappy attitude by now. He merely continues to smile disarmingly. "So, what's your name?"

"Screw you."

"Hn. That's an odd name for an Uchiha to have," the bastard had the nerve to tap his chin as if pondering about something, which only further increases Obito's bad mood and made an angry tick appear on his temple.

"_Hahh_?! Are you _deliberately_ trying to pick a fight with **_me_**?" Fucking suicidal bitch. Who in their right mind would want an overly obsessive criminal after them? _Honestly_! If Obito weren't so annoyed, he would be concerned if there was a screw loose in Hikaku's brain.

"I would feel too much of a bully to be fighting a sick person, screw you-san," Hikaku smiles broader.

"... you're definitely picking a fight with me."

"Hn? What ever could you possibly mean, screw you-san? I'm only calling you by the name you've given me, screw you-san."

"Stop calling me that! Fucking sage!" Obito roars, his voice loud enough to scare away a flock of birds overhead on the tree branches.

"But you were the one who-"

"ARGHHH fuck! It's Obito, okay?! Uchiha Obito! Now shut up and let me rest!"

Obito completely missed the look of triumphant, followed shortly by disconcertment, that flashed across Hikaku's face, too busy ripping grass off the ground to dispel the frustration welling deep within him.

"You remind me much of our Clan Head."

'_And which bastard would that be?_' Was on the tip of his tongue, but he was quick to swallow the question back down.

It wouldn't do to be clueless about the identity of the Head of such a prominent clan. Though he does hope that Fugaku has already become the Head, as his mission to right his wrongdoings in the past-future would become easier.

Not knowing how else to respond without giving anything away, he merely glared. He doubts that his glare would look all that intimidating with a scratchy medical eyepatch covering a quarter of his face, but he still tries his best.

"Well. I suppose that's enough rest time. Are you good to continue?" Hikaku stands up with a stretch, before offering a hand to Obito.

Obito sneers but takes the offered hand that soon helps him to his feet. As they continued their travels on the dirt road via the civilians' way, Obito focuses his attention on his core.

His chakra was recovering at half its usual speed.

Finally, _progress_.

"So, Obito-kun, what happened for you to have exhausted all your chakra - if you don't mind me asking? Was it an ambush?"

Obito intentionally ignores the other Uchiha in favor of looking at the position of the sun, reluctant to continue any sort of conversation and give away his lack of knowledge about the present.

If he were to say something wrong, it would just complicate matters. Hence, it was easier to remain quiet and allow others to misinterpret and build his story for him. That was how he had acted behind his masks of aliases back the-

Wait a second.

'_Obito-kun_? **_Kun_**?!'

Obito whirls to face Hikaku and all but snarls in his face, "_Don't_ _fucking patronize_ _me_!" If Hikaku wanted to put an honorific to his name, he should at least address him by -_san_, even if Obito prefers people just calling him by name alone.

And here he thought that the Uchiha clan prioritizes politeness and respect, especially towards their elders (_and yes he knows that that was highly hypocritical of him, shut up_). Obito might be a constantly _sangry_ person who lacks manners due to his pitiful life choices, but he knows that it wasn't proper to address those older than you with the honorific -Kun! Could anyone imagine him calling old man Madara _Madara-kun_? Or Fugaku _Fugaku-kun_ when he had still been a chuunin? That would be a sure way to get himself killed!

Hikaku, rather than apologize for disrespecting him, appeared taken aback by his hostility.

"I... Uh. I wasn't trying to be patronizing. But if I had offended you in any way, I sincerely apologize, Obito-Kun."

The veins on his temple bulges as Obito's temper rises. Inhaling deeply, he recalls old man Madara's lessons and compartmentalizes to control his emotions. It wouldn't do for his stress levels to auto-activate his Sharingan just as he was finally making progress on his chakra levels.

"Are you deliberately trying to piss me off? Here's the thing, Hikaku, you either call me _Obito_ or **_don't_**," he hisses. "Fucking if I ever want anyone younger than me to address me with -kun. _Hmph_!"

Without looking to see if the message had sunk in, Obito resumes walking whilst grumpily kicking pebbles out of the way.

It took half an hour of blissful silence for the tensed lines of his shoulder to smoothened, but as soon as it did, the silence was broken by someone clearing their throat.

Obito didn't bother to look at Hikaku even when the latter started talking.

"You said that you are older than me, Obito-k... _Obito_. It's either you believe me younger than I am or it is you who has a babyface?"

The question was asked tentatively as if Hikaku was wary that Obito would blow his top again. Pfft, did the idiot think him to be _Tsunade_? Bah! As if he would be offended if someone asked him for his age.

Naruto and Sakura used to tease Obito about his scarred ass babyface enough for him to be desensitized by it.

Though, if Obito was being honest, he doubts that his young appearance was due to his _original_ genes. Perhaps it was because of Hashirama Cells, implanted within him at such a young age.

Hashirama Cells give its user awesome regenerative abilities, true, but Obito believes that it also has the side effect of making their outer appearance mature in an excruciatingly slow manner. Even old man Madara acknowledged his theory because the Shodai, at his deathbed, still looked to be in his prime despite being _near _sixty years old.

...Although if he wasn't wrong, the Nidaime too looked no older than thirty at his deathbed.

So perhaps it was _just_ the _Senju_ genes in his body that has caused him to have a babyface. Who knows, exactly? Obito wasn't even sure if he was considered a full-blooded Uchiha anymore after having his DNA mashed together with Hashirama's (_old man Madara had to make a majority of his organs and numerous bones from scratch, after all_). Hell, it could even have made them half-brothers, for all Obito knows. After all, Obito's blood type did change after receiving the Cells.

All in all, everything was just too complicated when it came down to it.

Obito snorts at his diverting thoughts.

Peeking slightly at the fidgety Hikaku, he idly wonders where did Hikaku's ocean of calmness go? Or had Obito unintentionally leaked KI when he was complaining about how he should be addressed?

Odd. But perhaps not if he thinks about it.

The people that surrounded him back then all had big personalities. The only way to get anyone's attention was to send out a burst of KI - yes, the pink menace _including_.

In their tiny group of survivors against Kaguya, Kakashi had jokingly made a poll of whose KI was the most shudder-inducing. Old man Madara was voted to be number one (_obviously_), followed by the Obito, with Naruto following close behind. The blonde might appear to be all sunshine and rainbows, but even without the Kyuubi sealed inside him then, he was pretty dangerous on his own. Ironic enough, however, Kakashi's KI was the least shudder-inducing to their tiny group - though perhaps it was due to how vehemently Kakashi refuses to dose them with his KI. Obito has no problems, always happy to make someone get close to developing respiratory depression.

But he derailed.

"Thirty-six," Obito states without infliction.

"Pardon?" Hikaku sounded startled, so Obito turns fully to him with an annoyed frown on his face and repeats his answer.

"Are you deaf? I said I'll be turning thirty-six this year." In a month, actually.

"Wow. You must be strong."

This time, it was Obito's turn to be surprised.

"Huh?" Was his intelligent response.

"Well, I mean," Hikaku's cheeks were slightly flushed as he elaborates. "It's difficult for the average shinobi to reach adulthood in itself. But for you to have managed to live to thirty-five and is still fit for active duty, you must be talented. Many of our soldiers are forced to retire before they reach thirty due to various reasons."

Peculiar.

Sure, the risk of dying young was _extremely_ high for shinobi when compared to the average lifespan of civilians. However, before the Fourth Shinobi World War happened - before _Obito _happened - he recalls that the average life expectancy of a shinobi varies in a time of peace and in times of war.

There was also their various ranks (_genin, chuunin, tokubetsu jounin, jounin, ANBU, Hunter-nin, Iryō__-nin, Courier-nin, S-Class, etc_) and jobs (_desk jobs, patrol, courier, on-field, etc_) to factor when considering the death rate. For example, those genins and chuunins behind the desk receive missions that weren't exactly considered dangerous to highly trained, field jounin and ANBU agents, hence their average death age would increase. Now, bear in mind that Obito was _still_ in his prime, thus it shouldn't have been _that_ impressive to Hikaku.

Dread was slowly creeping up his spine when Obito's mind starts to fill in gaps that have been making no sense up until the present.

As if trying to give Denial-san one last chance, he stops walking in favor of scrutinizing his lone onyx eye down Hikaku's body, _painfully_ slow.

Flak jacket; negative.

Ankle wrapping _technique;_ outdated.

Sandals; outdated.

Thigh Kunai holster; negative.

Hip pouch; outdated, using some kind of animal skin as a drawstring pouch.

But the most important... hitai-ate, negative.

The results made him blanch.

It couldn't be... there was just now way this was happening...! Obito was overthinking it, right? There was no way he could have fucked up the time travel coordinates this badly, right? There was simply no way that Obito had ended up in a time _before_ Konoha was even a concept, _right_? And there's _absolutely._ _no_. _fucking_. _way._ Obito had, purely and by chance, landed in old man Madara's time, _right_?! Or sage forbid it, hundreds of years _before_ old man Madara was even born, **_right_**?!

"...to! ...bito!_ Uchiha Obito_!"

Obito jerks back to reality at hearing his full name, his lone uncovered eye wide as he stares dazedly into Hikaku's pair of alarmed Sharingan eyes.

"Wha...?"

Hikaku makes a big show of taking a slow and cautious step towards him, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.

"What happened? Are you alright, Obito? You look pale. Do you need to take a seat? Water?"

"L-let's just say I had one hell of a revelation and leave it at that," Obito struggles to talk straight through the fog in his mind as anxiety rears its ugly head. "And maybe some... water... yes. Water. And. Yes, I'll sit."

He was already sitting in the middle of the dirt road before he could finish his sentence properly. Blindly reaching for the waterskin (_not a canteen_!), he disjointedly notices that his hands were trembling so badly he couldn't even get a good grip of it.

Not knowing what else to do, he laughs.

He laughs and laughs and laughs an_d laughs_ until all he could taste was saltiness on his lips. And even then, he continues to laugh.

Seven days. It had to take him a grand total of _seven fucking days_ for his fucked-up brain to realize that he wasn't even on the right timeline, to begin with!

Now how was he supposed to fix something so far into the future? He would be _dead_ by then! _Dead_!

In his mind's eye, he sees Rin facepalm, before looking at him with exasperated fondness whilst saying; '_That's just like you, Obito_'. Teen-Kakashi piped up from behind of her, tone beyond sarcastic; '_Always late. When are you finally going to be on time, Obito?'_. Even old man Madara popped into existence inside his mind to give him an_ intense look_ which nailed the lid of his coffin; '**_Unsightly_**'.

Obito sobs.

He wants to go home and reunites with Rin. Kakashi. Sensei. His _team_.

* * *

**AN:**

Man oh, man. Really sporadic updates, huh? Uni is a place that kills all my imagination and creativity (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)

Please, tell me your thoughts! ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

The reviews are so fun to read. Especially when I can just see the sarcasm that's practically _oozing_ when someone says something along the lines of "can already tell that this relationship is gonna be _smooth sailing_". Hahahaha (≧▽≦)! And the theories! Some of you guys came _REALLY_ close to the truth. But I won't say which ones (¬‿¬). Not many of you guessed that it had been Hikaku who found Obito, but I can't blame ya. The only clue I gave out was 'purple mantle', after all. Nevertheless, it had been fun reading all of you guys wrecking your brains out to guess who it was（´∀`） Thank you for reviewing!

See you next chapter (-‿◦)!

**P.S.** The unfortunate soul that got Madara as a soulmate is... drumroll please...! _Ehhh_, I don't really know. Do you guys want to do a poll? (〃∀〃)ゞ It can be _anyone_, from Hashirama to Tsunade to Mito to Rock Lee.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter warning:** Suicide ideation. Unreliable narrator. _

* * *

Obito feels stifled.

However, It wasn't the weather that was making him feel this way, the wind rather chilly to the areas of exposed skin. To Obito, the cold has never been an issue, as Hi no Kuni's winters were kind to (_healthy_) Uchiha shinobis, the innate fire nature in their chakra coils allowing for them to stay unfairly comfortable even with only a thin layer of clothing as protection. Pride notwithstanding, from what he remembers in the history textbooks, this was also one of the main justifications why the Uchiha clan has always, continuously, refuse to move to another country despite the countless warfare they face over the centuries to protect their territories.

What was ultimately making Obito feel stifled was reality in itself. It mocks him for his failures, the plans Team 7 had painstakingly built were undone in a single moment of revelation, made pointless in the face of Obito's bad karma.

Hikaku has been trying to get a response out of him for some time now, but Obito wasn't in the mood to humor anyone at this point in time, his selective hearing having activated up upon command. In actuality, the other Uchiha should be relieved that he feels too stifled to move right now, too tired to do anything but lie down pathetically on the dirt road with his eyes tightly shut, and try to sleep the fatigue away. His physical exhaustion and mental breakdown unknowingly saving Hikaku from the fate of being skewered by Mokuton roots on instinct alone.

When he feels warm fingers touch lightly on his shoulder, he recoils, rolls away and presses his face against the ground, tiny pebbles digging into his scarred skin, yet he cared not for such minor inconveniences.

When he feels the same warm fingers try to prob him into getting up, he curls tighter into himself and firmly keeps his eyes shut. He refuses to open them, his subconscious desperately clawing for an escape from this nightmare-turned-reality. He fears losing more of his sanity as soon as he confirms the era he has landed in.

If he were to succumb to eternal sleep, if he were to deny reality, if he doesn't try to do anything and let himself waste away... he wouldn't be able to fuck up anyone's expectations of him anymore. The idea of migrating to the Pure Lands became more appealing as time passes by.

Obito wishes he could muster up some kind of willpower to bulldoze through this sticky situation, but such mental strengths had all been sucked dry after he had turned fourteen years old, along with probably three-quarters of his sanity. Now, he was practically a shriveled up carcass on the ground. Woefully pathetic, if he borrows old man Madara's dictionary.

His chest became heavier at the reminder of his mentor; constantly cranky, the definition of supercilious, and stronger than every single one of them, yet dead because of Obito. Just like Rin. The same could be said about Kakashi. Obito had even used his own two hands to cause the death of the remaining Bijuu and Team 7 because of this ridiculous time travel plan of theirs, yet he foolishly wasted their sacrifice by not inputting the correct dimensional coordination-

He immediately cut off _that_ particular train of thought as soon as he feels the familiar sting in his eyes, stubbornly refusing to give in to the temptation to bawl his eyes out (_he was supposed to be escaping reality, not reinforcing it_). His bones begin to feel as cold as his heart, but he stubbornly refuses to reach out to the warmth at his back. His entire soul was crying out for some kind of comfort, but he stubbornly refuses to allow the pleas to leave the tip of his tongue. However, he couldn't quite hold in the whimper from escaping his lips.

Those warm fingers, which had been a steady presence on his bicep, soon turn into warm arms, one placed under his shoulder blades and the other hooked underneath his knees. He allows himself to be carried like a pathetic genin, but he stubbornly refuses to speak despite Hikaku's persistence in calling his name.

Slowly, he could feel himself succumbing to a state of catatonia.

When he was close, _oh so close_ to escaping this wretched reality and completely shut down, he suddenly feels an icy chill, one that caused goosebumps to appear on his skin, cutting deep into his chest. It made him want to howl like a wounded wolf, complain to some kind of higher power, and throw a massive tantrum that would make his mentor proud. _Why was the wound below his left collarbone acting up at a time like this?!_ Despite the oddly soothing sensation the chill was causing, he wanted it gone!

He snarls and moves to bury his face into his gloved hands, expression full of deranged madness as insanity edged into his eyes, flicking crimson once in a while and draining his pathetic reserves before he realizes it. Laughter slipped out from his lips ever so often, along with tiny hiccoughs, and even when Obito tries to cover them by gnawing on his wrist, they still escaped.

_Disappointing_.

What kind of shinobi couldn't even control his own emotions? Couldn't control his own body? Couldn't control his own Bloodline Limit from spazzing like no tomorrow? Truly, this only enforced deeper in his mind that Uchiha Obito should've died a long time ago. The world didn't need a useless 'hero' like him, whose plans have a tendency to collapse _inwards_.

"... athe, Obito... Breathe..." Hikaku's voice suddenly sliced through his muddled mind like a sharpened Kunai through flesh. Obito jerks violently at that, as if he was just reminded of Hikaku's presence. It only made him loathe himself more at having lost his composure in front of a stranger.

Angry at himself for being such a wimpy loser, he directed all those pent up emotions to light a fire under his arse. He shouldn't be so easily discouraged. At least, even if he had entered the wrong dimensional coordinates, he still managed to travel _backwards _in time.

Although he _couldn't_ guarantee that his friends would have better childhoods, preventing the resurrection of Kaguya and sealing Zetsu was an inevitable part of his quest. He just needs to continue reminding himself of that. He could do this. Mental instability was not important in the face of Zetsu's suffering and demise. He could do this. He just needs to persistently remember that, give himself a mantra of some kind to fall back into. He could do this.

_'For the sake of agonizing Zetsu.' _This would be his sweet and short mantra from now on whenever he wavers in his resolve or deters from his goal.

Yes. that would do.

Alright.

_Moving on. _

He immediately cuts off the chakra pathways of his eyes and measures how much oil was left in his tank. Unfortunately, it seems he was back to near empty, albeit more than the state of when he met Hikaku. _Great_. Just great... Let's avoid having a mental breakdown ever again. _Un_. He can't stand being deprived of chakra. If his Sharingan continues flaring without his say so, he would, undoubtedly, remain crippled forever. And that was too scary a notion.

Okay, it was time to seriously consider _everything_.

The first agenda on his to-do list would be to stabilize his emotions, second was compartmentalization, and third, a firm resolve to _never_ again show any signs of weakness in front of others. After all, he was in an unknown time and place, so he can't afford to leave himself free for grabs. After he recovers enough chakra to enter his private dimension, he could properly deal with his emotions by having a proper sob session on his lonesome. Until then, he would be strong and prioritize recovery.

With that said, he slaps his cheeks a couple of times to regain his composure and glares heatedly at Hikaku to cover up the embarrassment he feels at breaking down, hissing like a disgruntled cat, "OI, Bakaku! Don't you fucking dare act so familiar with me, it's _disgusting_. And put me the fuck down already! _Tsk_, the audacity of some people...- _What are you waiting for_?! Bitch, don't make me say it twice!" If looks could cause lethal damage, Hikaku would already be dead on the ground, drenched in a pool of blood.

Hikaku, suddenly tagged as Bakaku (_Baka+Hikaku_) and called a bitch by a disgruntled Obito, showed a strained smile, baffled by how bipolar the older Uchiha was behaving, yet inwardly relieved that the gloomy mood was over, replaced by the usual grouchy temperament.

Without any warnings, he obeys and releases the white-haired Uchiha, secretly pleased when Obito _howls_ a string of curse words when he landed on his ass on the ground. _Ah, music to one's ears_. Hikaku, as gentle and patient as he was to his clansmen, was petty and vengeful like any other Uchiha, even towards the injured.

* * *

**-x-**

* * *

Tobirama feels suffocated. Not physically, but mentally.

Without even the slightest of changes in his expression, he discreetly loosens his obi to allow more room for his feverish skin to breathe. Despite the cool room temperature, heat permeates the surface of his skin, leaving him agitated and grumpy. He just wants this meeting to be over and done with so he could take a relaxing dip in the pond-turned-pool. Since it was only the beginnings of winter, he should still be fine (_his brother's idea of a fun winter activity has at least brought the benefit of cold resistance into his arsenal_).

Feeling slightly better after having made plans to skinny-dip, he tunes back his brother's voice, just in time to hear Hashirama's loud advocation to peace with the Uchihas, as well as his ideas for the future, which weren't all that bad if Tobirama was being honest. If his brother's proposals ever manage to see the light of day, Tobirama would only need to tweak about _forty percent_ of the contents to make them pragmatic.

An advantageous example to approving Hashirama's need to ally with the Uchiha would be that they would gain inimitable resources, allowing their clan to accept missions that would have been too 'unique' for the average Senju to succeed without injuries, but uncomplicated for the average Uchiha, as their clans have different specialties that coincidentally align and cover the other's weaknesses. This would then bring forth a rise in the clan's income, resulting in an improved day to day living... as well as an increase of funds allocated to Tobirama for the sole purpose of research (_he has plenty of ideas on how to improve and standardise their hygiene and health as a whole, but the materials required for his 'indoor plumbing' experiment needed more than what was currently allocated. The Accounting Division was truly too paranoid in regards to Tobirama's experiments. It wasn't as if _all _of them would explode, only _half _would_).

Perhaps he should take some time off one day to educate and teach Hashirama on how to properly argue for his cause whilst presenting rationales that would leave his oppositions speechless in the face of sound logic?

... forget it. Knowing his brother, Hashirama would fall asleep the second Tobirama opens his mouth to explain anything concerning diplomacy.

With a silent sigh, he mentally prepares himself to pointlessly sit in for _at least_ another hour in this meeting, courtesy of the disgruntled Council of Elders; their need to complain and rebuke _everything_ and _anything_ that would bring forth a dynamic lifestyle and better economy always giving him a headache.

The elders, as per usual, didn't fail to pull down his already poor opinions of them. If it were not for how childish his actions might seem, he would've mouthed, _word for word_, what each and every elder said in rebuttal to Hashirama's proposal. They were _that_ predictable, and as a Senju himself, he was embarrassed to admit that his clan's current elders were no better than a tape recording.

Now that the two sides have started their monthly verbal war of what should or should not be done in the name of duty and tradition, Tobirama boldly brings out the scrolls that needed to be attended to and started working on them, idly keeping an ear open just in case anything important props up, as unlikely as it was.

Slowly, he gets into the ritualistic and relaxing movements of checking through the paperwork his subordinates have handed in for his second opinion, audits, or approval, amongst the few.

(... _Overview of supplies and provisions for this month, check. Designated couriers selected to deliver rations to the frontlines and outposts, check and approved. Overview, resupplies, and maintenance of weapons and armor, check. An inane mission to babysit a noble's daughter and her boytoy from destination A to destination B, rejected, crumpled into a ball, and tossed into the trash pile. Propositions to attain more materials, approved, send out the usual squads. A standard mission to assassinate a merchant that has employed a squad of Uchiha bodyguards, on hold, further investigation required on the individual members of the squad. A missive from the daimyo; requesting for the Senju clan head's attendance to a banquet, on hold, all diplomatic assignments require Hashirama's personal approval. An after-report of Touka's retrieval mission, nothing amiss, check. An emergency clandestine meeting requested by their regular Hagoromo informant, too suspicious, on hold till further investigation. Request for more medical personal in the frontlines, most names of listed candidates changed, approved. List of newly deceased._..)

And just like that, time flew by in a much more productive way. Tobirama didn't even need to speak in the last part of the meeting, his brother more than enough to fend for himself. After half a day, the meeting finally came to an end with the same result as all of the past meetings did; with nil changes or improvements.

Hashirama has his lips pursed in dissatisfaction whilst the elders looked ready to go into cardiac arrest from anger induced hypertension. Tobirama dispassionately notes to spike their tea with more stimulants the next time, seeing that a single dose did not work as intended.

(_Once their fragile hearts fail or falter under the strain of old age, Tobirama could warrant the need to replace the current Council members, appealing that they retire to look after their health better whilst also kindly providing them medicinal rewards in return for their long services. This sort of pressure would leave them with no choice but to accept his advice for retirement lest they be called shameless for taking advantage of his kindness. Ultimately, pride will always be the downfall for those that care too much about reputation. Followed by their inconspicuous retiral, he would immediately start to petition for fairer laws to pass through without traditions and bias compromising the judgment of the Council. One of the laws he desperately wanted to pass was for an Elder's seat to be changed every five years, lest stagnation remains._)

After gathering up his belongings, Tobirama announced his departure with his usual aloofness, not minding at all when they, apart from Hashirama, ignored him. He was used to it; to their distaste of him as a person due to his appearance. They would listen to him when the time calls for it due to his genius intellect, but he knows that they secretly wished he was drowned at birth. He also knows that the only reason they allowed him to continue being the clan's heir and attend the monthly Council meetings was due to Hashirama. His brother had insisted, quite loudly, that Tobirama keep his position.

The council of elders had initially wanted his young nephew to be the Senju heir, rather than their residential white-haired, red-eyed freak, but Hashirama refuses to strain his child any further by putting unnecessary weight on those small shoulders. Tobirama approves of his brother's decision and thus did not refute, silently agreeing to hold the fort until his nephew was at least in his teenage years.

With only a cool glance towards the elders, he easily buries the discomfort and self-consciousness he feels towards his appearance and bows to Hashirama, the only one deserving of his respect, and leaves without another word. Behind him, his keen sense of hearing allowed for him to pick up the discontented mutterings following his wake, and his brother's angry retaliation to those mutterings. He ignores them, more irritated by the heat than anything else.

After dropping off his things, he makes his way to the pond. As soon as he arrived at his destination, he reaches to peels off the yukata from his flushed skin, but pauses midway in consideration after recalling the rather unpleasant name currently branded on his chest. Not wanting the reminder to further ruin his mood, he quickly enters the waters without disrobing, sighing in relief when the heat finally dissipates, the cold penetrating deep into his bones. The sun rays, too, felt perfect on his skin, contrasting amazingly with the cooling temperature of the water. If he were a cat, he would be purring contentedly right now.

Just as he was about to start meditating, the suffocating feeling returned with a vengeance, causing him to scowl, immensely vexed. This time, however, it did not spread away from his chest, the heavy feeling pulsing in a way that imitates a heartbeat. As if enthralled, he couldn't help but slip a hand into his yukata, palm pressed against the soul script below his left collarbone. It absorbed the chill from his hand as if starved, heating the appendage as if it was a heater pack.

Tobirama's scowl did not lessen at this discovery. Rather, it deepened.

Yet, despite the aggravation he feels at having an Uchiha's name marked permanently on his skin, he did not stop his movements, constantly switching hands whenever they turned too warm from the exposure of the soul script.

How stifling.

* * *

**-x-**

* * *

At the Uchiha compound, a parakeet was navigating through the maze-like halls of the main family's mansion, only stopping to hover outside a sliding door once it senses the familiar chakra of its target inside.

The messenger bird cawed twice and waited patiently. It didn't take long for the occupant to shuffle over and allowed entry for the green feathered parakeet. Once the door slid open, the summoned animal landed directly onto the offered forearm.

Uchiha Izuna retrieves a scroll from the tiny capsule strapped to the bird's right leg. After he rewards the parakeet with a handful of sunflower seeds, he unrolls the bit size scroll and reads it carefully.

The expression on his face, usually a smirk, became warped as he rereads it again, slower the second time.

When he finally slips the scroll into the sleeve of his yukata, his crimson Sharingan eyes were in clear disbelief - _even his palms had become clammy_! Without delay, he sends the parakeet off and forces himself to saunter to his brother's office. Although his insides were a mess of never-ending questions, an air of obvious frivolity was thick around him as he kept his body language and poker face in check, smirking nonchalantly at passing retainers and guards as per his norm behavior, not wanting to alert them of anything amiss.

Madara has so much to explain if what was written on the scroll is proven to be true!

* * *

**A/N:**

Hm. I've got it. I know who to pair Madara with. The future looks mighty chaotic for him ◥(ฅº￦ºฅ)◤

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter ღゝ◡╹)ノ!


	7. Chapter 7

Izuna, after a few seconds of lock picking, slams the wooden door open and swaggers into his brother's office, making sure to activate the privacy seal as soon as he entered, footing the door shut as an afterthought.

"Aniki _-_"

He cut himself short, however, when he sees the dumbfounded expression currently on Madara's face. Utterly idiotic, even, with his eyes wide open and his jaw agape. In the Uchiha clan head's hands was a letter, crumpled at the edges, with how fiercely his brother was holding them in front of his face.

Because Izuna was a little shit, he made sure to capture his brother's hilarious expression with his Sharingan. Fun memories for depressing times. With that done, he childishly puffs out his chest and calls for his brother again, gleefully yelling louder this time around.

"ANIKI~! Pick your jaw up before you attract flies."

Madara startles, head snapping up as his expression changes into something akin to being caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. A few heartbeats pass as Madara composes himself, glaring at the intruder.

"Does it not register in that empty head of yours that when I lock my doors, it means I desire space and time _alone_?"

"Nope~" Izuna singsonged. "Lock doors just tempt me further. Like coaxing a beautiful lady to shed all her secrets."

Madara glowers, "Careful there, Izuna. You _know_ the sayings - curiosity kills the cat."

Izuna smirks, voice sweet as honey as he retorts, "But satisfaction brought it back. Honestly, aniki. We've been through this a million times."

Madara clicks his tongue, a sneer curling the corner of his lips, "One day, I swear I will instill the concept of privacy into you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." He swats the air as if he was physically swatting away Madara's empty promise. "Who sent you that letter, anyway? Is it a love letter? Let me see?"

Madara looks highly judging as he slaps Izuna's grabby hands away. "You are hopeless." The older Uchiha sighs despairingly, which only made Izuna blow him a raspberry.

"Glad to see that you've finally caught up. Now, _tell me_! The suspense is _killing_ me," Izuna whined childishly whilst tugging at his brother's sleeve. All Madara did was roll his eyes harder. Which, _ru~de_.

"It's from Hashirama."

"Huh? Why'd he write to you? Or rather, why didn't you burn it immediately?!" Izuna has his hands on his hips as he glowers at the letter still in Madara's hand.

"I was curious."

Izuna jeers, "Hypocrite."

Madara snaps back, looking down his nose at Izuna, "Shut up! Besides, be glad that I succumbed and read it. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have known that he was coming."

"Who's coming?"

"Hashirama."

"Eh?" Was Izuna's intellectual response. Madara, again, looks highly judging. The asshole.

"He's coming here with an entourage of Senju, ready to talk about a cease-fire," his brother grumbles, arms crossed.

"Ehhh? Is he _crazy_?! No, wait. Even if he is, _Butsuma_ will never agree to that!"

Madara deadpans, "Butsuma's dead."

Izuna couldn't help his reaction. He exclaimed his shock, _really_ loudly, "_**EHHHHHH**_?!"

Madara murmurs, a thoughtful frown on his face, "... my thoughts exactly, but more eloquent."

The two Uchiha brothers were paranoid by nature. Despite how Izuna (_cause clearly, Madara was too much of a sentimental fool_) wants nothing but death to all Senju, Butsuma couldn't be underestimated on and off the battlefield. If Izuna grew a heart to invite Butsuma to compete for the title of '_who is the more paranoid shinobi_', Butsuma would win hands down.

"Good riddance and all that, but how'd the bastard die?" Izuna wonders out loud, a touch gleeful. "Was it accidental or deliberate? I hope it was painful." There were a lot of ways to determine a clan's standing by the death of their leader. If a revolt had happened, it would be the prime opportunity for them to raid the Senju compound and put an end to the Senju name once and for all.

"From a heart attack."

"Maji de?!" _That was unexpected_, was left unsaid.

Madara, proving himself to be some kind of mindreader when the situation calls for it, nods along, his response as dry as Kaze no Kuni's desert, "Maji."

"Hoòh... Who would've thought... I seriously can _only_ picture that old warmonger dying in battle. Maybe Hashirama finally made the bastard so angry his heart gave out on him? One could only hope that was the case. When did this happen, anyway?"

"You and me both, Izuna. From what I discerned, he died a week ago. Hashirama is now the Senju clan head, and he's not giving me enough time to reject him."

"Reject...?" Izuna squints suspiciously, the familiar wave of brotherly protectiveness rising from his chest. "He didn't send you a love letter, right? I'm telling you, aniki, there's _No Way In Hell_ will I ever accept a Senju for a brother-in-law! He's not good enough for you!"

"Fuck off, idiot! How many times do I have to _show_ you that Hashirama and I are NOT soulmates?! We're not even friends anymore! Why are you like this?!" Madara massages his temples with a grimace. "The blubbering fool sent me a heads up."

"There are various ways to conceal a soulmark -" Izuna stops (_rightfully_) insisting as soon as he sees Madara eyeing a paperweight as if to contemplate bludgeoning him with it. "Umm... I mean, what do you mean by 'reject', exactly?"

"_Hmph_! The letter arrived yesterday morning, but because I was being cautious, I delayed reading it. It's more of a heads up than to ask for permission, so he'll be here any time soon!"

Displeased, Izuna grumbles petulantly, "So? Just deny them entry into our compound. Say that our dog ate the letter and tell them to sod off. Or better yet, we set an ambush. _Fuck_ Hashirama. Fuck _all_ Senju."

"We can't!" Madara whines (_not that he would exactly admit to whining_) whilst tugging at his hair in an attempt to calm down. He fails. He begins pacing not a moment later. "That's the problem, Izuna! If we attack the Senju when they're wearing a sashimono with the Peace Symbol on it, other shinobi clans _will_ gossip about how barbaric we are to not uphold the unspoken rules imposed since the time of our forefathers! All the shinobi clans in Hi no Kuni have a tacit understanding that the Peace Symbol is only used as a means to communicate - like how we have reached a consensus about _not_ _shooting the messenger_! Future alliances will be _impossible_ to attain if we ignore those _fucking_ laws!"

"What the fuck?... _What_. _The_. _Fuck_?! Fucking politics!" Izuna cussed, looking downright manic in his distraught.

"Precisely! _This_ is why you shouldn't have napped in all those 'how-to-be-a-politically-savvy-clan-heir' lessons," Madara growls, scrambling to don his leather gloves as he strides to the door. "Unfortunately, I currently don't have the time to lecture you about your poor life choices. Help me prepare, Izuna. We're gonna have a shit time assuring the masses that the Senju ain't here to raid us."

Even after being reprimanded, Izuna was still doubtful. Madara might be foolish enough to believe that Hashirama was being sincere in his peace offerings, but Izuna, ever paranoid Izuna, would never let his guard down. He would protect his brother from any kind of deception.

"Are you just going to _trust_ Hashirama that this isn't a trap set by Tobirama? This is probably a scheme of sorts, a ruse to make us drop our guards." Izuna's sudden question halts Madara in his tracks. The slow, almost hesitant shrug enough of an answer.

"... You go and bring Hikaku up to speed. I'll talk to the elders."

"Hikaku's out on a mission," he dismisses without a pause. "This is dumb. We should at least try and find a loophole-"

But Madara wasn't having it.

"Then go inform the next in line after Hikaku! Damn it, Izuna, just listen to me for once without backtalking!"

Izuna purses his lips in apparent displeasure but assents after a moment of stilted silence.

His agenda was left forgotten as they both rushed to prepare for the inevitable tension that would befall upon the arrival of the Senju delegation. If Izuna had passed his message to Madara as he had intended, perhaps Madara would have prioritized differently.

Alas, he did not.

Hikaku's arrival with a white-haired Uchiha in tow was completely unexpected to all but Izuna, much to the frustration of those who were involved.

* * *

**A/N:**

Maji de? = Are you serious?

Maji = Yes, I'm serious.


End file.
